My Daughter, Broken
by Strange.x.And.x.Beautiful
Summary: Oneshot. What can a father do when his daughter is broken beyond his repair? Charlie POV


My Daughter, Broken

**I do not own Twilight, nor the characters associated with this great novel. They all belong to Stephenie Meyer, darn her!**

**I haven't seen many Charlie centred fics, so I thought I'd have a stab at one.**

**Hope you enjoy!**

**Charlie POV**

I watched Bella from across the table.

Every morning I watched her, and she still took no notice of me. She was barely aware that I was here, sitting at the breakfast table with her.

She was staring into space, her eyes urgently searching for something beyond the window. I knew those eyes were searching for him hoping she'd catch a glimpse. I could tell that under her inert exterior she was waiting impatiently for him, hoping that he would reappear at the window and flash his stupid smile that I knew always melted her heart.

But her heart was broken now, so broken I was sure that she'd never be the same person again. The thought overwhelmed me, making me feel so ashamed.

I was the father who hadn't protected his daughter from heartbreak. I'd let her crumble before my eyes and all I could do was watch her hopelessly wishing I would do something, but knowing I never would.

I was too cowardly to comfort her; I didn't know what to do around her, was I supposed to give words of comfort or slander? Was I supposed to hug her to me, tell her there were plenty more fish in the sea? I couldn't see myself doing that, as much as I wanted to.

We'd never been close, the touchy-feely parent stuff I'd left to Renée. Then once they'd moved away to Phoenix any form of close contact had been cut off, bar those summers where Bella had visited for a couple weeks to her anguish.

Forks was her personal hell, as well as her mother's, and they'd both made their dislike apparent to me. The last couple of summers I'd had to travel to Phoenix instead as Bella had refused point blank to visit Forks for another summer.

As the years passed I thought that Bella would turn out to be a carbon copy of her mother, but I was wrong...It turned out that as she developed into an adult we were more alike than I'd thought; I'd found that Bella was as emotionally awkward as I was. We enjoyed silence opposed to noise, we knew that we didn't need to fill the silence; we understood that it didn't mean awkwardness; it just meant we were lost in our own thoughts.

But this silence, now, was pressing against me like a vice. I wanted to escape it. I wanted Bella to escape from wherever she was, I wanted her back, I wanted my daughter back. I just didn't know how to do it. I couldn't send out a search party like last time, she was physically here but mentally, she was elsewhere, only she could find her way back.

I'd considered sending Bella back to mother in Jacksonville. I wondered desperately if it would bring the spark back into Bella's life. I wondered that maybe, if she were away from everything that reminded her of him, she'd heal quicker, forget about him and move on with life. But I couldn't bear sending her back like this; I couldn't return this lifeless person who used to brighten up my day with just a casual greeting back to her mother. I couldn't let Bella leave me just yet, I wanted to try and make it right, _somehow_ I had to make it right again. God knows how I'd do it.

"Bella?"

I called out her name and I watched as her eyes found my face. She propped her chin onto her palm and she kept her eyes on me, but she was still miles away from here. I knew straight away that it had been a knee-jerk reaction. Bella had trained herself to position her body in the direction that someone called her name. It required minimum effort and it didn't take her away from wherever she was.

"I'm staying late at the station tonight, so I won't be home till at least eight."

She nodded and returned to prodding the uneaten bowl of cereal that sat in-between her elbows.

I looked back to my cup of coffee to hide my hurt, but she wouldn't have noticed anyway.

There was no need for me to stay late at the station, but I did it anyway. I wanted to escape from everything here, I wanted to escape from my daughter's suffocating depression and work was the only way out.

Work was the minute piece of my life that I felt I had control over. I was the one responsible for keeping this small town safe, it just ironic how I couldn't keep my own daughter from falling apart.

Driving home was the only time I had to myself. That was my time to try and be upbeat. I didn't want to return home feeling low just in case school had improved Bella's condition. Whilst I drove in silence without the radio on, I had to hope that she'd had a better day than the last. It was the only thing that kept me sane. I hoped that she'd realised that she needed to get over him and snap out of this trance she'd hypnotised herself into. I hoped desperately that she'd have a smile on her face and then mention what had gone on at school that day.

Every afternoon I was disappointed to find the house silent and the sight of pots on the oven cooking themselves.

One morning, unable to take anymore of the silence, I'd threatened Bella with moving to Jacksonville, it was then something happened.

She fought back. Although her voice sounded feeble and her arguments were poor, she actually tried to fight back against me.

I'd broken through; I'd made actual contact with my daughter for the first time in months.

I hadn't touched her, uttered comforting words or threatened to kill the boy that left her.

I'd had to threaten her with _home _to reawaken her.

Now I wished that I done those other things, like any other father would've done, then it would've felt like success.

The thing I've wanted to happen for four months was now just a hollow victory.

As I left the house, revelling in our confrontation, I wondered...What kind of father am I?

_Not a very good one, obviously._

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